The Shadow of A Soul
by Mpmagi
Summary: It's a cold world out there so when Amy Sorel is kidnapped, what won't Raphael do to get her back? Please, please review.
1. Chapter 1

Ok, time to begin my second fanfic :-P Of Souls and Shadows will be medium length, I estimate about 4000 words. I _feed _off reviews, don't let me starve!

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On a usual day, the crowded streets of Benetnasch were packed, filthy and boisterous. Today was worse. Amy walked close to the edge of the street so she avoided the bulky mass of tourists, merchants and beggars. Stink came in waves that dissipated across her face. She was starved her for clean air. A loose red shirt covered her black pants, the absence of patches on her clothing instantly separating her from the impoverished people. Amy's dark crimson hair was cut short and she could have easily been mistaken for a boy.

The brick-laden street was home to the worse of men. Beggars with hollowed eyes and ragged teeth glared at the clean, young girl that dared transverse their territory. Pickpockets and kidnappers blended smoothly among the normal and good people making an honest living. They presented themselves in Amy's view as plain as day, because she had once been amongst them.

Before she dressed in clothes that made nobles gawk, before she had the dagger hidden in her boot, she shad been a common market thief, stealing from unattended stall and wallet alike. She had been near death, wandering the streets of France when a bruised and sweaty man clutching his broken arm had crossed her path, searching for sanctuary. Even though she had only been eight at the time, she had stashed the man in her favorite hiding place and when the police had come Amy had pointed them in a false direction. Those few moments had changed her life permanently.

Immensely grateful, after Raphael had healed he whisked her off the streets, taking her as his adoptive daughter. His status as a wealthy fighter had shocked Amy greatly, and when he revealed he had been heir to the Sorel family's fortune she had nearly fainted with disbelief.

He had bought her a house with money, he had said, from the Sorel's before he severed ties with his family. Servants and caretakers tended her and their marvelous mansion located just north of the port town of Benetnasch. Amy had lived content for a while. Raphael had taught her use of the stiletto and dagger insisting that she hide a knife in her person at all times. This had continued for five years, Raphael training her in all forms of combat, from exotic weapons to hand-to-hand learnt from Asian monks. Now, at thirteen, she was more of a match for any mediocre fighter, and could kill a man several different ways.

Then, Raphael left. With a hug and explanation, he went chasing after Soul Edge leaving Amy, now thirteen, alone in their grand house. Amy occasionally ventured out into the local populous; experiencing life again among her once-brothers.

A figure in a dark cloak moved in front of her, blocking her field of vision. Feeling threatened, Amy hand instantly grabbed the stiletto hidden in her sleeve. But the figure passed, disappearing into the crowd among the other nameless faces.

Heart beating rapidly, she slowly released her iron-grip on her dagger. Something had made her tense recently. Perhaps it was Raphael's absence, but Amy had had a feeling of foreboding ripping at her conscious whenever she slept. Images of violence that she had never experienced before flashed in her dreams, always just beyond comprehension.

This feeling was only reinforced by the ill-tidings she overheard at the small pub she walked into. She was not really feeling hungry, but she bought some water from a barman with a patch over one eye.

"Whas'a little lass like you doin' in Benetnasch?" he asked, setting down the tall glass and leaning on the small table she sat at.

"Just checking what's new, keep the change." Amy said, the barman brightening immensely when he saw the number of coins lying on the table.

"Thank 'ee much lassy."

He returned behind the bar, serving three men that had just walked in. Two of them were tall and burly standing on either side of a smaller man. They all had the same stupid grin and rapier-swords swung from their belts.

"Haven't seen you blokes around in a good while!" the barman said, polishing a dirty glass with a dirtier rag, "Sit down, sit down, the usual, eh?"

"Not ta'day we're here on _business_." The smaller man looked significantly at his companions.

The barman's smile slipped a little. "Aren't you three still mercenaries? What could bring ya' back here?"

"Like I said, work." With a furtive look for eavesdroppers he began, "There's been a rumor that a killer's on the lose in the world. Not just a normal murderer!" he said, stopping the barman with a look. "No, they call this man the Azure Knight."

Amy's ears pricked up, instantly recognizing the name from Raphael's tales of his travels.

_Whatever he said could be where Raphy is going_ _and if it's a murderer I should warn him! _She leaned in closer, ears straining to hear the man's lowering voice.

"Well, the queens and kings of a 'undred kingdoms have a huge bounty on his head and twice that for his sword. Its rumored to be a monster blade, that controls its wielder utterly."

"Jesus, this isn't the same sword as that pirate used all those years ago!" The barman said, setting down his glass in worry.

"No, he's most likely dead or rich and hermit, no bother to us either way. Anyway, the azure night is supposed to be near the west, at the Antares Mountains. And _we-" _he looked significantly at his comrades, "are going to track him down."

"Well," he gave a enormous laugh, "I'll be sure to give your wives a decent funeral present!"

"What do you actually think we're going to fight this monstrosity?" the burly man to the right of the smaller one spoke up. His voice deep and low and nearly bursting with contained laughter, "we're going to _kidnap_ a real warrior, either one of these Asian blokes or a Frenchman I've seen around, he's going to fight Mr. Azure Knight for use!"

_Okay, now this is really bad_, she hoped the men would challenge Raphael he would easily kill these three before they could blink; but Raphael wasn't focused on ambush, probably preparing wholeheartedly for his battle _with _Soul Edge, not _for _it.

Her hand gripping around her dagger Amy made her decision. She would lure these three into a secluded alley, and then slaughter them all with the minimal amount of effort. Simple and effective, just the way Raphael had taught her.

Author's Note

Yes! First chapter down, a lot more to come. Most chapters will be longer and have more information than this one, and I cut down on a decent amount of background information that Soul Calibur fans should already know.

I FEED off of Reviews!

--Mpmagi


	2. Simple, but Effective

Hello fans! Sorry for the long time it took to update, I've been having some problems getting to my computer. The bonus: I am almost done with Chapter 3!

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Simple and effective, just as Raphael had taught her.

A few rumors spread personally by her and directed at the bandits had them following her leads like lambs to the slaughter.

The Sun was low, casting orange hues across the sky when the bandits arrived at their deaths. Amy had "led" them to an abandoned shop at the end of town. It was a dank and dark place, stone construction, boarded windows. Scattered tables and lopsided chairs gave the impression of a noble resturant gone bankrupt and looted. All too common these days.

The thick door slammed, shaking the dust of carious objects and three men came into the desolate room.

"So, when's the Frenchie gonna show up?" The taller man, whose name she had learned was Def. "That old crone said he was hiding in the old pub at the end of town."

"Oi! Sorel!" the smaller man, Spike, shouted his voice echoing dully in the small pub. "Any lil' Sorel in here?"

_Yes there is, scum!" _she wanted to shout back, filled with contempt at their mockery of her surname.

"Search this place. Def, you look upstairs. Richy, you're with me down here."

Amy crouched on a balcony overlooking the first floor. She could see that the men were very tired from their day of chasing leads through crowded and hot streets. Their shoulders were slumped and they carefully guarded limps. Silently she prided in herself at her manipulating them into this exhausted form, they might have been a match for her otherwise.

Now was the time to strike. Amy gripped the dagger tightly, turning her knuckles white. Spike was closest to her, barking out orders to Richy and Def. Unfortunatley for him he was directly under the balcony where Amy watched. When the tiny man looked away Amy flipped over the handrail. Supporting herself by her hands, she released her grip on the banister, bringing her knife to bear as she fell. With a jarring crunch the knife disappeared into Spike's back, just where the neck met the shoulder. Spine severed, Spike wobbled loosely as Amy landed quietly on the solid stone floor. She tugged the knife out and blood gushed from Spike's back as he collapsed to the floor, sputtering unintelligibly.

The others turned swords at the ready. Halfway up the wooden stairs Def balked. "It's a little lassie! What's she done to Spike?" his voice was unusually high and his face had paled to a chalky white.

"She's killed him, mate." Said Richy shakily, staring at the bloodstained blade in Amy's right hand. "A kid put down Spike!" His sword held ready, he charged directly at Amy, trying to impale her with his pure momentum. Amy ducked, bringing her foot around to smash into Richy's ankles as he came past her.

With a loud _thud_ Richy crashed into a table directly behind Amy, bashing his head against a chair as he fell and cracking the chair in two with his forehead.

Just as she was about to finish him off, Amy sensed Def readying himself for a charge too. Quickly, she brought the table around blocking creating a barrier between her and Def. Def edged cautiously around the edge of the table and was rewarded for his caution with a foot swinging into his nose. Blood immediately spurted from his nostrils as he clutched a hand to his broken nose. Seeing an opening, Amy leapt to stab Def between his ribs when a sharp pain exploded in her ankle.

Looking back, she saw that Richy had managed to regain use of his hand and had slashed her foot with the point of his blade. The warmth bled into her socks, staining them a dark red. Stumbling, Def recovered and attempted a stab at Amy, which was narrowly blocked with a flick of Amy's wrist.

Injured now and her maneuverability gone, Amy only had one advantage over her opponents: luck. She clutched her foot and edged backwards, away from the twin points now aimed at her. Richy had a nasty bruise rising on his head and blood leaked from between Def's fingers as he clutched his nose.

Amy took a deep breath, preparing for the final rush. She would take at least one of them with her if it came to this. She moved her knife in front of her, pointing the blade directly between the two thugs. Duck, slash upwards, catch Def in his ribs, maybe twist and cut Richy before the points killed her. Amy carefully slid one foot in front of her. Immediately the thugs punched, she ducked—

Without warning, Richy stumbled and crashed into Def, sending their attack sprawling across the stone floor. Cursing loudly, Def leapt to his feat while snatching his fallen rapier from the floor. He kicked Richy furiously.

"What in the blazes did you do that—. The words died in his throat as he caught sight of a wicked looking metal knife. It had four points all sharpened to a point centered on a circle that held the throwing star together, and it was currently sticking out of the back of Richy's neck. Horrified, Def whirled around and right into an armored forearm smashing into his jaw. The fore of the blow sent him flying, crashing lamely into a wall before slumping unconscious.

Amy stood facing this newcomer. She was obviously female, hair tied in a slick tail down her back. Metal forearm and leg protectors were forged in frightening shapes, even her mask, which covered just below her eyes, was forged into a dragon-shape. A blue jumpsuit clung tightly to her form, bringing her cyan eyes out in the most frightening way. And now, those eyes were focused directly on Amy.

Her hand moved to the hilt of her knife tied to her back when she caught sight of Amy's dagger, her foot moveing back into a familiar stance.

"Who are you?" Amy asked in a controlled tone. Both women had their eyes on the other's weapon, looking for the telltale movement that would signalize an attack. Surprisingly, the newcomer's hand dropped, falling limply to her side. Amy was instantly alert for trickery, looking to her face. Amy saw directly into the newcomer's eyes and an overwhelming drowsiness took hold of her. In the deep, infinite eyes Amy lost herself, sinking into their deep hold. Sleep, operating at the edge of her consciousness, claimed her in its unrelinquishing hold.

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Veronica The Mischievious- sorry for the long time it took, forgive me :beg:beg:

UnknownWorldCreator - I hope you like the rest of this story as well.

Also, if anyone knows a good beta reader or beta-reader site, email me at THANK YOU!


	3. Bait, not quite Switch

Ok, time for the second to last installment of Shadow of a Soul. I think I've kept this story short enough to be enjoyable, yet have enough detail. To all reviewers: YOU ARE GAWDS. Keep reviewing please!

- MPmagi

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Chapter 3

Raphael sat on the edge of the Antares Mountain range, gazing deeply at the snow-capped peaks. Father away, the Inferno Mountain towered from the ground, its sides surrounded by a halo of misty clouds making its top seem to poke the heaven's itself. The sight of the mountain had inspired story and art, now Raphael looked at it as an obstacle, standing in the way of the sword Soul Calibur. The holy blade _was _on that peak, he was sure of it and an ominous feeling emanated from it in waves that made his stomach queasy.

He shook his head; the hike could wait until tomorrow. His mount's mane was drooping, a sure sign that it, too, was exhausted. Raphael couldn't blame the beast, as it was carrying his packs of supplies.

"Looks like we've both had better times, eh?" he asked, not caring that the horse didn't answer. Patting the horse affectionatlly on the head, he sat next to the animal, warming his hands on the fire he had started. He unbuckled his rapier, letting the hilt relax in his palm. The cold steel felt alive and powerful, a ward against the Mountain's negative energy.

Just as the beginnings of sleep gripped at his consciousness a slight rustling broke the silence. Raphael knew, from long days spent on the run, to trust his instincts, and at the moment, they were telling him to dodge.

He threw himself forward and to his right, and his leg grazed the flames. A knife, unadorned and small with a letter attached to its handle stuck out of the hard dirt.

Raphael stood from his crouch, slightly surprised that his rapier was out and unsheathed. Apparently, he had drawn it without thought. His eyes scanned the land from where the blade would've have been thrown, ready to dodge in case more projectiles came his way.

When it was apparent that his attacker had fled, Raphael carefully examined the knife. He could detect no traces of poison so, with a gloved hand, he picked it up. It was razor-sharp and well cared for, obviously used by no amateur. Suspiciously, it lacked any distinctive marks. All blacksmiths had their own signature, a symbol or mark on the steel of the blade, to identify it as being created by them. This one was completely unadorned, nothing, save the note tied onto the hilt.

His fingers shook slightly as he untied the thin thread and peeled open the folded yellowing parchment. As he read his face turned red, his eyes narrowed and his blood boiled. He gripped the note so tightly it tore in two, tiny parchment fibers fluttering in the small breeze.

Like the brewing storm, Raphael's eyes darted, searching for the origin of the note. If he found the person who wrote this, even if it was in jest, he would rip him limb from limb. In neat, clear calligraphy, it read:

Dear Raphael,

You are invited to an informal get-together I am hosting a little west of your current position. Go to the Antares Forest you will be directed from there. To ensure your punctuality I have Amy in my safekeeping. She will be kept safe, ere your presence.

Bring the shards.

Raphael was instantly awake, the note acting as a stimulant that gave him an inexhaustible amount of energy. He threw the knife with all his force at the nearest tree. It slammed into the trunk, burying itself to the handle in wood and the tree shook violently. He tossed the remains of the note into the air, scattering them to the winds. Anger built into a cold rage, the sense of loss making him search for anything to hurt, to share his pain with. Amy was his, and anyone who threatened her would be the sharp end of his rapier.

He belted on his sword, giving it a gently caress as he packed up his camp. The horse had seemed to be infected with Raphael's newfound power, and neighed happily. He threw one leg over the mount.

"Go with speed, friend." He said eyes forward and radiating power, "Go with the speed of vengeance."

Taki watched silently from her perch atop a nearby tree. Her lips cracked a thin smile as Raphael looked right at _her, _and then passed over her painted green face and clothes. The trap had been set, and he had no choice but to walk into it now. Her smile grew wider, she had already won.

Her target was Soul Edge, always had been Soul Edge. Her adventures had revealed that the sword _had_ existed, and been shattered into several pieces. Whether there were twenty or a hundred shards she didn't know, all Taki needed were enough of them to forge a new one, one to put against Mekki-maru and to destroy them both forever. Raphael had three or four good-sized shards all of which he carried on his person, as Taki had found out when she searched his house.

So she had hatched this plan. The only way to corner anyone is with their weakness. Taki knew hers: her persistence. And Raphael had his: Amy. The difference between theirs was that Raphael's was easier to capture.

The knife crashed into the trunk was unexpected, and the shaking of the tree nearly unseated her. It returned her attention to the scene at hand and also gave her another glimpse of herself.

_Stay focused, Taki_, the voice of Master Toki repeated in her mind, berating her screwing up a stealth training session, _feel the area around and blend into it, you are your surroundings, and use yourself to your advantage._

She disappeared, simply ceasing to exist on top of the tree as she flitted across the ground. Trees snapped by at a deathly pace, crashing into one at her speed would probably kill her instantly. _Time to return to the bait._

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_VTM: Yeah, I hit a WB so the update took a while, and my Internet connection was down :( TY for the review_

_WhipOfAlch: YAY! You reviewed on my B-Day. Capturing the era was what I set out to do, ty for the nice b-day present!_

-MPmagi


	4. Taki's Downfall

Chapter 4

Raphael cautiously advanced into the area of Antares Forest devoid of trees. His rapier, Flambert, was out with its razor-sharp edge pointing dead ahead. His eyes flickered over the indigenous trees and plants, noting the positions should they be needed later.

He caught sight of a patch of dirt that had been recently moved, and a few cracked twigs. He kneeled down next to the disturbed ground, recently moved. He was getting closer.

"Fufufufufu…" the chilling laugh echoed throughout the clearing, freezing Raphael's burning blood. He whirled, slashing cleanly through a large plant behind him. Its top half fell to the ground, sending leaves spiraling across the clearing.

The leaves convalesced, forming a spinning whirlwind that blew past Raphael. He shielded his eyes from the gusts blown around him. The form of a woman in a black shirt with a forest-green vest appeared inside the leaf-whirlwind. Although it was blurred and indistinct, he recognized the ninja Taki immediately.

Suddenly, the whirlwind dissipated, and in its place was a grinning Taki. Her hair was taken out of its usual knot, and now hung down to her green-covered shoulders. The normally chalk-white face had been camouflaged with two peach dots on her forehead. Two knives were attached firmly around her waist, and one on her back.

"Well, looks like you did get my little invitation. Tell me, did you bring the presents?" her defined voice was dripping with mockery.

"Where is Amy, you wretch!" he snarled, gesticulating the point of his rapier in Taki's direction. The only thing that kept him from immediately tearing Taki to shreds was his lack of knowledge of Amy's condition. As soon as he found out where she was, however, nothing would stop him from killing the black-haired intruder.

"Hmmm, I'll take that as a 'yes'." She snapped two delicate fingers, and large tree that had standing behind her moments before collapsed into a pile of leaves and branches. Amy was tied to the trunk of the tree, thick rope restricting her hands and legs. Her head lolled on its side, eyes flickering dully under her eyelids.

Raphael felt a sudden pang in his heart at the sight of her injured. He channeled his rage into his sword arm, moving it in a graceful arc towards Taki's neck. She moved with amazing speed as she stepped backward, deflected his sword upward, brought her leg around and slammed her knee into his gut.

He stumbled back as she flipped away, laughing as she executed a midair somersault and landed on her feet. Raphael's rough coughs filled the sound of the forest, disturbing a flock of birds from their perches.

"Fufufufu, Raphael, up your game or hand over the shards. This is simply boring if I have to beat you down before taking…" she stopped; Raphael's coughs had turned to rough wheezing, which sounded almost like _laughter_.

Without words, Raphael brought up a hand he had been clutching to his chest. He held a small dueling dagger, and dark blood decorated the tip.

Taki glanced down at her leg, and saw a long line of blood ran from the bottom of her knee to the thin shoes she wore. The injury was merely superficial and would not seriously limit her abilities.

A smile touched her lips. "This will be better than I thought."

Raphael rushed forward again, throwing a roundhouse slash at Taki's chest. She leaped over the blade, flipped once, then landed lightly behind him. Raphael's grip flipped the sword backwards, his back still facing Taki. He turned and stabbed blindly, forcing Taki to duck under the blow. The dagger held in his other hand flashed toward her face, and stopped a millimeter from her eye.

She quickly returned to her feet, coming at Raphael head-on. In a split-second she had pulled out Rekki-maru, and brought it out and down. He easily parried, and delivered a snapping kick to the kunoichi's midsection.

The blow spun Taki like a top, and she used her momentum to lash out with both Mekki-maru and Rekki-maru. A loud clang shook the clearing, jarring the combatant's eardrums like a weather vane in a storm. Their blades were locked, each only a hairs' breadth from cutting the other's throats.

Raphael let out a grunt, and shoved the ninja away from him, only to join her battle a second later. Their fight was ferocious and unforgiving; Taki's speed and flexibility were only matched by Raphael's power and innovation. They each amassed a collection of bruises and cuts, and the sun waned as the battle wore on.

Taki leaned back from another slash, and then caught the backslash with her blade. Moving with blinding speed, Raphael thrust his dagger at the ninja's exposed chest. Taki saw the dagger coming, however, and easily blocked it with the other knife. Too late, she saw Raphael's plan. Both her knives were locked between Raphael's, and she was wide open for an attack.

She caught a flash of a smile from Raphael before he spun, swinging his foot into Taki's neck. The force of the blow sent her flying, her blades falling from limp hands as the light left her eyes. She crashed into a tree, and heard a sharp _crack_ as her left arm snapped in two.

The last thing she saw before she blacked out was a sideways view of Raphael running to Amy, rapier discarded and dagger abandoned.

Amy's half-opened gaze widened as she felt her tight binds lessen their vice grip on her torso. A large breath of air rushed into her lungs, refreshing her air-deprived brain. She felt hard, but comforting hands lift her from the trunk and lay her gently on the ground.

In her mind, Amy battled with the confusion settled upon her by Taki. Potent medicines and powers had been inflicted upon her, and she was weak in both body and spirit.

_Amy?_

A small voice broke the barrier of unconsciousness. She grasped at it, reaching out of the void against the slowly relinquishing hold of the ninja.

_Amy?_

With a final pull, she flung her eyes open.

Raphael kneeled over her, beaten and cut face smiling a warm greeting. His hair was filthy and his face was streaked with sweat, but it was the most beautiful sight in the world to Amy.

"Enjoy your nap?" said the sarcastic voice again.

"Probably as much," she said her voice tiny, "as training with you."

She carefully sat up, now level with Raphael. A look of concern flashed across his face when she stumbled and almost fell.

"C'mon, I'll carry you from this pestilential place." He pulled Amy to his chest, making sure not to touch the shining bruise on her leg.

Amy, the feeling of security overwhelming her tired brain, entered a state of relaxed sleep, one thought blaring through her mind.

_I'm in his hands now, nothing can touch me._

But.

"Outmaneuvered, Raphy." Where the last words that Raphael Sorel heard before cold steel bit into his chest.

His eyes grew wide as his gaze fell to his breast, right above Amy's head, where the metallic glint of metal protruded. A feeling of numbness spread from the coldness of the blade. The paralyzing wave began to consume his body in a deadening slow process.

Then the blade was pulled out, and a small amount of his life's liquid splattered onto Amy's pale cheek. His knees gave way, and his once graceful form slid to the ground. Amy was gently laid onto the dirt with the last of Raphael's resolve.

He gazed into her closed eyes, seeing the life that he had given to her, and the small bit of life he had gotten back in return. Amy was strong, she would survive. She was peaceful, her breathes even and deep even with his blood staining her cheek.

An image of perfection, then Raphael thought no more.

There were two main reasons why this took so long to update.

Mainly, my internet was completely destroyed at the beginning of December, and was only recently returned.

Next, I kept writing and rewriting the end. I can't believe I killed off Raphy in such a sentimental way; I _hate _Raphael.

Stay tuned for the final chapter.

MPmagi


	5. Epilogue

A Shadow of a Soul Chapter 6

When consciousness returned, Amy found herself gazing directly at a stunning Raphael. Her heart leapt with excitement at seeing his face strained with kindness and fondness. His eyes were open in a powerful glare.

But there was a slight problem with his loving stare. The smile etched onto his face had a trickle of blood on its curving lips. A sliver of infinity was present around Raphael, and his eyes never blinked.

Cautiously, as if fearing a sudden disturbance or shock, Amy extended a timid finger and probed Raphael's cheek. The taut skin was warm but lacked the innate kindness that constantly radiated from him. As she felt, the malevolent suppressing of darkness crept through him.

Raphael moved no more.

There came no cry from Amy's trembling lips, no shriek scattered the calmness of the forest around them. But the tears that flowed and blended with Raphael's blood emanated a howl more primal and basic than anything a human could manifest. The force stilled words in the throats of men, and breath lock in their mouths, cease the thoughts of the mind for one, short moment.

Taki sensed the void created inside the tinny girl. The hole would be filled with shock and grief first, then mutate into a horrible anger then would consume her body and spirit. She wished she could somehow prevent the girl's eventual self-destruction, but the seeds of madness had already taken root; planted by her own blades.

Death came, tearing holes in the flow of nature, but life would continue, filling the gaps left by the taint.

"Amy" began Taki, "he is dead. There is nothing to be gained by staying here." She would never make a claim to being kind, but even an assassin knew mercy to the young.

"Amy turned slowly, her eyes burning a fiery gaze into Taki's. Taki recognized that familiar glare of a person who has witnessed death. Amy's flame burned bright and sharp. It would be such a waste for this potential to snuff itself out.

"Amy, your one guardian left in this world has perished. You are not a child but you still need guidance. I am obligated to become that protector now." Taki paused, marveling at her own daring.

"I can teach you to become stronger than Ra-, he, ever could have. I know training that will hone you body into an invincible machine. And," Taki's fingers brushed Rekki-Maru on her back, Make you strong enough, even to defeat me."

Her eyes widened at her last comment. They flicked between Taki's imposing figure and Raphael's prone form. Her decision was made.

She gather her strength, and strode purposely past Taki Amy carefully picked up Raphael's beautiful with the magnificent cross guard. Cradling it like a precious child, she walked back to Raphael's cooling body and wrapped the limp fingers around the hilt.

The ninja nodded slightly at this last tribute before Amy stood and turned to her.

The two disappeared from the clearing ad were not seen by mortal eyes again for quite some years. But not everything remained in its peaceful place.

Moonlight flooded the night with bright, white light. The blossoms had retreated into their flowery homes, and nocturnal creatures crept from their hidden burrows. The smell of fresh meat was near and all creatures know of meat.

A fly perched itself calmly on top of the figures pale hand. It shone like a ghostly figure, the moonlight reflected off his equally colorless hand. The fly shifted slightly, poking a small mouth into the easily pierced flesh.

There was a flourish of movement, and the fly was a black smear on a white glove.

In the night, a hand tightened on an equally cold, steel hilt.

Fin

MPmagi


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